Stop
by rhythm junkie
Summary: dominant!Arthur, submissiveish!Merlin, empty offices and make-up sex. AU/OOC. A wee PWP o/s. Warnings for perceived/mild dub/con.


**Just a cheeky short PWP. Oh, and characters? Not mine.  
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**Love to my Merlin beta, Fr333bird, for being awesomeness.**

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><p>"Stop...please..." Merlin's voice was weak under Arthur's relentless stare and twisted mouth.<p>

"One thing I asked of you, _Merlin_," Arthur's tone was vicious, designed to cut, "and you can't even do that properly. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, your track record for seeing things through isn't exactly stellar, is it?"

As intended, the barb hit home. Merlin stared at Arthur's blue eyes, eyes that had looked on him fondly, and saw nothing but contempt. He stepped backwards, feet echoing in the empty corridor, shaking his head.

"Where are you going?" Arthur hissed, making a grab for Merlin's arm. Merlin evaded him with a grace usually absent from his long limbs.

Merlin had known, when the call had come, that this was a bad idea. Deep down, he knew he hadn't spent six weeks avoiding Arthur's calls for no reason, but he felt like he owed Arthur something and, truth be told, he missed him. Missed his voice and the way it would register deep in Merlin's bones, missed his hands and the way they knew Merlin's skin so well, missed his face...

Arthur had been wearing that exact expression when Merlin had bounded into his study, waving the letter his agent had passed onto him, so excited by his news that he'd forgotten it was the night of Arthur's monthly dinner with Uther. It was that contemptuous expression that reminded Merlin of the narrowing of Arthur's eyes as he casually dismissed the publishing deal Merlin had been chasing for years, reminded him of the mocking words – "_Someone publishing your ridiculous dragon stories is hardly a cause for celebration, Merlin. Sounds like that publishing house needs to fire some people_" – it reminded him why he had left in the first place.

Merlin continued backwards, eyes darting from Arthur's face, unable to look at the man who had woken him whispering endearments against his spine. Merlin usually avoided Arthur for the evening after his dinners with Uther, and it wasn't until he left that he realised how ridiculous that was.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Merlin?" Arthur's voice was hard, but Merlin kept backing away, refusing to raise his eyes. "You agreed to do this function for me. I agreed to be here months ago and you _swore_ you'd come with me. You _promised_."

"I can't...Arthur..." Merlin looked up at the man facing him helplessly, "I can't do this...I'm sorry...I just..."

Merlin tried to turn, tried to flee, but Arthur knew him too well and had already anticipated the move, turning into Merlin, forcing him around, herding him. Merlin made a small distressed noise, but Arthur kept crowding him, face and body tense.

"What can't you do, Merlin?" Arthur's voice had gone soft, imploring almost, and the sudden change wrenched at Merlin's frayed heart. "What can't you do? _Tell_ me."

"No, Arthur I..." Merlin's voice was wretched as Arthur backed him against the wall of the corridor, limbs crowding in tight, arm reaching around and suddenly the wall fell away and Merlin was stumbling backwards, Arthur's fingers in the lapels of his suit jacket the only thing keeping him upright.

Arthur kicked the door closed with his foot, and they were enveloped in a soft darkness that helped to calm Merlin's racing heart and panicked breaths. A peripheral scan revealed an office, private if Merlin was any judge of quality furniture, (living with Arthur, he had certainly learned to be), before Arthur was crowding him again, hands and voice tender against the harsh edges of Merlin's cracked heart.

"Tell me," Arthur whispered, and Merlin jumped when he felt lips brush his cheekbone. He tried to turn his head away, but only succeeded in turning his face into the man clutching him, lips brushing under his eye this time.

"Arthur," he gasped, trying to shake loose, "Arthur, _please_..."

"No, Merlin," Arthur's voice was steel, his body wrapping around Merlin's despite the other man's attempts to escape, "Tell me, damn it."

"I can't do this because of you!" Merlin burst out; pushed, as always, to breaking point by Arthur's unrelenting demands, "I can't stand next to you and pretend we're still together, and hold your hand, and smile adoringly, I can't do it!"

"Why?" Arthur's voice was quiet, but the command rang through loud and clear, and Merlin was helpless to disobey.

"Because you look _amazing_, and I missed you_ so_ much, and I can't touch but not _touch_, and Arthur, it's only been six weeks, it wasn't fair of you to ask me to do this, it wasn't fair!"

"Why?" Arthur's eyes were intense.

"Because I still love you, you prat."

Merlin only had a half second to register what he'd been forced to admit before Arthur was on him, mouth sliding hotly against Merlin's own, fingertips pulling at clothes, seeking the skin hidden beneath.

"Arthur," Merlin protested weakly, trying to pry Arthur's body from his own, but Arthur was over him like an invading force, just as he had been their entire relationship. He clearly had no intention of relinquishing his claim to Merlin's body and Merlin's heart, and Merlin _knew _Arthur would conquer him like a king.

"Arthur," he tried again, but his voice was weak even to his own ears, and was soon lost in the dirty twist of Arthur's tongue in his mouth.

Merlin yielded to Arthur's determination to assert ownership over him, allowed Arthur to manhandle him out of his clothing, hands hot and beautiful against his lonely skin. Merlin found himself spread out on a sleek black couch he'd failed to notice before, Arthur climbing on top of him with sure limbs and a determined expression.

"You're moving back in tonight," he said, staring intently into Merlin's eyes as his fingers, slick with lotion he'd found in a raid of the desk drawers, (Merlin didn't want to think about what that lotion was used for), slipped down between Merlin's thighs.

Merlin gasped at the press against his hole, the movement confident and familiar, and tipped his hips up at the shallow push of Arthur's finger in him.

"Merlin." Arthur's tone contained a warning, and Merlin found himself nodding along, glorying in the brilliant smile Arthur rewarded him with. "I'll get Gwaine to collect your things whilst we're eating."

Arthur further rewarded Merlin, adding another finger and twisting gently until Merlin gasped, eyes rolling up in rhythm with his hips. Arthur's forehead was furrowed in concentration, his eyes on Merlin's face.

"No one will ever know you as well as I do, Merlin," Arthur said, but Merlin knew it wasn't the statement it masqueraded as.

"No one," Merlin agreed, gratified that he'd read the situation correctly when Arthur nodded and brushed his sweet spot with a fingertip, making Merlin whine.

"No one will ever love you as completely, as thoroughly, as I do, Merlin."

"Never, never," Merlin agreed, "Impossible."

Arthur, clearly pleased with Merlin's answer, pressed into Merlin's sweet spot, stroking for a solid minute, until Merlin clenched his eyes and fists and thighs, moaning loud enough that he raised his fist to muffle his sounds. Arthur grabbed the fist halfway to Merlin's mouth, and shook his head.

"Don't," was all he said, but Merlin knew what he was not-saying. They weren't far from the banquet hall, close enough that anyone could walk by and hear. And Arthur _wanted_ them to, Merlin knew; wanted them to hear him reasserting his possession of Merlin's topography, wanted them to know that Merlin was _his_.

It was stupid, and Merlin should fight it, he _knew_ that, but it was just so inherently _Arthur_ that Merlin succumbed immediately, fisting his hand by his side once again.

A three-fingered, concentrated, reward against his sweet spot had Merlin keening at a volume he was sure would be heard by everyone in the building, arching up to press his body against Arthur's, skin on skin. Arthur's lips found Merlin's ear, murmuring pleasure and approval against the shell as Merlin writhed beneath him.

"Merlin," Arthur's voice was tight with the strain of conquest, "Merlin, you won't leave me again." Arthur's mouth was soft against Merlin's skin, fingers stilling inside him, body pressing him down into the couch. "Merlin, you won't leave me _ever_ again."

Merlin, gasping beneath the solid weight of such a well-known body, knew that if he were ever to get out then now was the time. He looked up into blue eyes so recognizable they could be his own, and nodded.

"Merlin," Arthur grunted, wanting the verbal agreement, ever the lawyer.

"I won't leave you."

The reward this time was Arthur's slow, relentless slide inside, making Merlin moan at the burn, moan at the stretch, moan at the feeling he had missed so deeply, being surrounded, filled, _held_ by Arthur.

"You belong with me," Arthur ground out, sliding an arm under Merlin's hips to tilt him upwards, get in deeper, "You're meant to be by my side. Always."

Merlin nodded, mindless, as Arthur fucked him, slow and unforgiving. Arthur might invade like a foreign force, but he fucked like a hero. Merlin could think of nothing but the drag of Arthur's cock, measured and deliberate, inside him, turning him inside out, making his body and brain disconnect, closing him down to everything except what Arthur wanted him to feel.

Merlin slid his thighs around Arthur's waist, and Arthur growled against his neck, biting the flesh there and sucking, rolling, nibbling it until Merlin was sure the mark he could feel building wouldn't fade for weeks.

In sensory overload, Merlin reached for his own cock, but Arthur grabbed his wrists in his free hand and pinned them above Merlin's head whilst he tilted Merlin's hips higher and slid in deeper. Arthur's cock dragged across Merlin's sweet spot, and Merlin _yelped_.

"You're going to come from just my cock in you, Merlin," Arthur's voice was rough with his own arousal, "You're going to come just like this, with your arse tight on my cock and your body tight beneath mine. You're going to come from just _me_."

Merlin whimpered steadily, unable to answer, unable to do anything but focus on the sliding, dragging pleasure of Arthur over and in him, pressed against him everywhere, and his orgasm surged over his body, shaking him so hard he had to clench his teeth together to stop them from rattling in his head.

Arthur fucked him through it, whispering filthiness in his ear, until he, too, came, pressing deep inside Merlin, filling him, reclaiming what was Arthur's and Arthur's alone. They rocked together for long minutes, slowing their movements, allowing their bodies to reconnect.

When Merlin was back in his own mind, Arthur leaned down, all intense eyes and visceral expression, and kissed him slow and deep. Merlin opened himself to it, revelling in the feel of something he thought he'd never experience again.

Arthur untangled himself with a firm, "don't move", and returned to the desk, rooting around before he was standing over Merlin, hands full of wipes, cleaning him gently and reverentially. He dressed Merlin slowly, from socks to suit jacket, pulling him up and in for a kiss by his tie.

Once they were both decent, Arthur simultaneously pulled out his mobile and pulled Merlin into the corridor. As he dialled, his free hand travelled to the back of Merlin's neck, curving around it in such a proprietary gesture that Merlin baulked. Arthur's hand tightened slightly and Merlin, understanding that Arthur needed to feel in control in this moment, acquiesced. A few seconds later, when Arthur had established that Merlin had no intention of trying to escape, the hand loosened its grip, fingertips lying lightly against the very top of Merlin's collarbone.

"Gwaine? I need you to pick up Merlin's things and bring them back to our flat."

Merlin, smiling, turned to tell Arthur the address of the flat he was living in, but Arthur had already rattled it off.

"You'll find the keys in the glove compartment of my Range Rover," Arthur finished, before flipping the phone closed and turning his eyes challengingly to Merlin's wide staring ones.

Seconds passed, and Arthur's grip tightened on Merlin as Merlin stared at him. He knew Arthur wouldn't apologise for what he had just overheard, wouldn't see the problem with his actions, and Merlin sighed, knowing that _this_ was Arthur, for better or worse. He relaxed his body and Arthur hauled him in close, wrapping his arm around him, anchoring their bodies together.

Arthur pulled up outside the banquet hall, (in reality, a badly done up conference room), and Merlin stumbled slightly beside him, turning to question the delay, stopping abruptly at Arthur's earnest expression. Arthur stepped close and kissed him, sweet and lingering, making Merlin's body shake.

"I love you, Merlin," he said seriously, holding Merlin's chin in a gentle grip, "I know I'm a terrible prat sometimes, and I say hurtful things, and take my moods out on the wrong people but, no matter what I say or do, I _always_ love you, you know that."

Merlin nodded, unable to speak, the sincerity in Arthur's tone making his throat feel too thick for words. Arthur leaned in and kissed him again, soft and sweet, then whispered, "Good. You should also know that when I get you home, I'm taking two days off work and intend to spend them licking, sucking and fucking you over, on or into every single surface in our flat." He grinned seductively and dragged Merlin, face burning, through the doors and into the hall.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you think.<strong>


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